Oh humanity, I have been doing some soul searching. There is no end to it, the search. It is like having insomnia in an endless daytime; thoughts in waning light, ever recurring. It is a day that never quite gets dark, or becomes night, but just keeps rewinding. The mind chasing itself, its choices that were still chances.
What have I been doing, I wonder. Why are my epiphanies too often after the fact. They don't prepare me as much as they remind me, taunt me.
I know why, exactly. I am just thinking out loud here. I have isolated where most of my problems come from, where they go. As I look back over my life I can pinpoint the two common denominators: Me and what I do.
One of them must go.
When I hit 40 I decided I wanted the second half of my life to be different from the first. Presumptuous that I might live until 80, I thought it was a sensible time to make the switch, but I ended up only lightly shedding a habit or two. Other habits hardened around me, closed in. The facts have spoken there. Denial has ceased to be an available option.
I had become resentful along the way. It is a dangerous feeling, the sensation of having been treated unfairly comes into it. Little surprise in that. Resentment is the soul killer.
Resentments take no time to easily find a thing that I have long looked for, the soul. It does seem unfair, but that's also part of what it leaves in you, the residue of imagined unfairness, then the remorse for ever having believed yourself.
Resentments take no time to easily find a thing that I have long looked for, the soul. It does seem unfair, but that's also part of what it leaves in you, the residue of imagined unfairness, then the remorse for ever having believed yourself.
I was asked a simple question last night and my answer surprised me: "Because I'm tired of being an asshole."
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